


Who Are You To Break My Heart?

by cosimageekhaus



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Marvel
Genre: Alcohol, Angie being a jealous cinnamon roll, F/F, Pining, you could say that it's angst
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-07
Packaged: 2018-04-08 02:20:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4286997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cosimageekhaus/pseuds/cosimageekhaus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Angie got a role in one of the big motion pictures in Hollywood, and it is the night before her departure. She and Peggy have a nice dinner planned, but the night does not go the way Angie would really like it to...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Are You To Break My Heart?

“Peggy? You in there?”

It was the third room Angie peeked in, her shoes clicking across the shiny wooden floors, her coat still on her shoulders despite the stuffiness of the warm summer night. Italian summers were considerably hotter than this one, especially in the south, and Angie did not mind getting warm in the first place. Not with her heart fluttering in her chest.

It has been barely a week since she got the call, a week since she and Peggy drank the entire bottle of Howard’s best drink, celebrating Angie getting her first role in a big motion picture which was to be filmed in Hollywood. Then the nerves kicked in, since moving across the country proved to be an unnerving task she was yet to complete. It would be the first time for her to travel without her Ma and brothers, each clinging to her arms like little monkeys, and, the hardest of all, it would be the first time spending two entire months without Peggy.

It was almost unbelievable to think that she had spent the previous eight months living with the Englishwoman who has become a dear friend and a little bit more, a thought and feeling harbored deep in Angie’s heart which was turning out to be harder to control with each passing day.

“English? If you’re in there undressin’ you better say it now because-“

She pushed the door of Peggy’s bedroom open, only to find it empty as the rest of the house. Strange, Angie thought, a little frown on her face, her fingers tightening their grip around the bouquet in her hand. Peggy was the one who proposed the dinner in the first place, as a little goodbye feast the night before Angie would have to head off to L.A.

Her confusion ceased once she got into the library, a little note scribbled on the table, hurriedly, and there was a little sigh of relief that escaped the petite Italian. The only worse thing than Peggy being away was not knowing what kind of danger she was off to face.

_Had to stop by the SSR, might be a_  
little late for our dinner. Forgive me.  
-P 

Once she set the bouquet of violets on the armchair, Angie’s thumb traced over the edge of the paper, corner of her lips curved to a smile, heart thudding in her ears. Perhaps her confession would need to wait several hours more… after having waited for eight months, several hours were nothing.

The first hour passed by fairly quickly, with Angie running around and preparing dinner that she knew Peggy loved, now wearing a flowery dress that swirled about as she skipped across the kitchen happily.

The second hour was when she looked at the clock every now and then, the excitement over having dinner with Peggy turning into a sinking, anxious feeling, something she was familiar with, an old friend if you would. Perhaps Peggy would not show until late at night, leaving Angie high and dry for two more months before she told her how she really felt since she could not just up and confess her feelings out of nowhere.

Third hour was the time when Angie got out on the balcony that Peggy’s bedroom led to, the violets now in a vase next to Peggy’s bed, a symbol of sweet expectation of a moment that could change Angie’s life forever, for better or worse. Being someone like her, a woman who fell in love with women, an abomination as called by many, has found her solace in someone like Peggy, who accepted her the moment when she poured her secret out on one of their schnapps-and-rhubarb-pie-nights, a tradition they repeated every Saturday night for weeks upon weeks now. Admitting to Peggy that she was a lesbian several months ago now seemed like a trivial thing. 

This secret, harbored for more than eight months seemed much more frightening, not only because it left her feel emotionally naked in front of the other, but also posed a terrible possibility that their friendship could be ruined forever. Whatever would happen next, whatever the reaction of Peggy’s would be to the fact that Angie has developed these feelings from the moment those wonderful legs walked into the automat and into her life, Angie would learn to deal by being away for two months. Her stomach flipped for a brief moment in which she slipped into a daydream where Peggy was smiling and saying the same thing back. It was a dangerous thing, that kind of hoping, but she could not help herself.

Fourth hour came, and Angie was reclining on one of the chairs on the balcony, watching the stars, a cigarette between her fingers never lit and a bottle of schnapps half gone now, still holding onto hope the other would show before midnight. The excitement faltered considerably at this point, turning into anxiety, only wishing for a chance to say what was on her mind for so long.

When the tires on the ground snapped her out of half a sleep she had fallen into some half an hour later, all the thoughts and scenarios that have been going through her head suddenly dispersed. Angie lunged to her feet, feeling her head spin from the schnapps a tinge, brilliant smile on her face and hands wrapped around the railing, practically bouncing in spot. She almost called for Peggy once the curls appeared from the passenger door, that red lipstick carrying the brightest and most gorgeous of the smiles. Almost.

Had it been Mr. Fancy who came out on the other side, Angie would have been waving and calling from them both, but the familiar face with the familiar limp and a crutch appeared from the other side, mirroring the smile on Peggy’s face and at once, Angie’s heart sunk, even against her will.

Daniel Sousa has been one of Peggy’s closest co-workers… maybe a bit too close for Angie’s liking. Peggy, on the other hand, always seemed to turn him down gently, but seeing them together like this, tonight out of all nights suddenly felt like a punch in the gut, even worse than one she would get every time Broadway casting directors told her that she was not good enough. In realization that Peggy never brought him to the house before, her stomach twisted and tied itself into a knot as she watched them laughing, completely oblivious to her standing several feet above their heads. 

By the time he told Peggy that they would see each other at the tomorrow night, and by the time she gave him one of the smiles Angie always liked to claim her own, her own knuckles were white from gripping the railing, the elation and nervous excitement turned upside down, breaths hitching in her throat as she fought for oxygen. 

It was not rational, the feeling that took over then, fueled by alcohol in the bloodstream, the anger of the fact that Peggy might have been sitting at the office with Sousa, making dinner plans or even having dinner with him while Angie’s meal was lying cold in the dining room downstairs. It had been her last day in New York for a while, yet Peggy chose to spend it with the man that Angie was secretly terrified of the most, terrified that one day his attempts would make the Englishwoman finally give in. For all she knew, tonight might have been the night.

The torturous feeling climbed from Angie’s abdomen and to her throat, making it hard to breathe as tears filled her eyes the moment she turned around and faced the darkness of Peggy’s room, violets catching her eye immediately, and Angie felt them mocking her.

The life was not kind enough back when she was fifteen and had fallen in love with her best friend who disappeared from her life the moment Angie tried to kiss her on a beach in Napoli. It was also not kind when Jenny moved out to Armonk after five months of the first real happy lady relationship Angie ever had, and got married to a man after her mother threatened her with a mental hospital and lobotomy. Life has not been kind to her when it came to other women, so why would this time be any different? Steve Rogers has been Peggy’s true love, and while Angie never expected to be good enough to fill his shoes, there was a slight hope to soothe Peggy’s pain and have her own feelings returned for once.  
For a while, for a short, beautiful while, ever since that night they spend dancing at the Stork Club and fell asleep in each other’s arms, drunk on alcohol, cigarettes and happiness, Angie thought that she could have been the right partner that Peggy needed to move on with her life. 

As she moved towards the vase, holding the anger in as to not instinctively break it, Angie realized that even though blurry, there was a line of their friendship she should not have crossed, for Peggy did not feel the same, she never did. These thoughts tormented Angie, and tears were spilling down her cheeks as the violets were dropped into the bin just outside Peggy’s door. 

The beautiful spy deserved happiness and it was time to make peace with the fact that Angie, as a woman, could not give it to her. It was just the way things went.

“Angie!”

The voice, albeit cutting through her like thousands of knives, caught her off guard and she stopped dead in her tracks, thanking God that her back was turned to Peggy and that the hallway in which they stood was only dimly lit.

“I’ve been looking for you downstairs, what in the world are you doing up here?”

Even though Angie wanted, more than anything, to make a remark about seeing her with Sousa and being late for five hours to their dinner now, she could simply not bring herself to do it. Even if she wanted to, when their eyes met once Angie turned around, eyes still puffy yet thankfully suddenly dry, she nearly let out a cry that has been stuck in her throat.

“I… I fell asleep.” A sniff. “I was just returning to bed, needed to use the little lady’s room ‘n all.”

The way Peggy looked at her flowery dress with one eyebrow quirked up, it was clear that Angie was fooling no one.

“Angie, is everything alright? I’m terribly sorry I’m late, there has been complications with the Manhattan case and-“

“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself English, it’s okay.” More lies, more smiles and a non-committal wave of her hand, even though her insides were burning. “I’m fine, I just… I talked with ma’ and got sad that I’ll go two months without seeing my brothers, is all.”

They looked at each other for a moment, and Angie noticed the shuffle of Peggy’s feet and a genuine concern on her face, bless her soul. In that moment, her insides screamed for one of those smiles that Angie saw her give to Sousa only minutes ago, and her throat closed up once again.

“Oh darling, two months will pass in a heartbeat, you will see. I am certain that they are going to miss you just as much. I know I will.”

Words that once would make her feel as if she was floating on clouds in the starry night sky now only hurt more, and Angie fought back the urge to wrap her arms around her own waist to keep the hurt at bay, at least a little. Instead, she managed another smile, knowing that only minutes and several feet separated her from the pillow she would cry herself into until the morning came.

“Thanks, English.”

Had it been any other situation, Angie would have told her how much she missed her too, take those steps forward and pull her into a hug… The images that followed then were only half credited to her still slightly inebriated brain, but any thought of pressing lips to those red ones now hurt tenfold.

“I was just about to try your dinner, I don’t suppose you want to join?” 

There was a real hopefulness in Peggy’s voice, or at least it seemed that way. After seeing how Peggy greeted Sousa, Angie decided that reading signs from Peggy was not a thing she was good at after all.

“I’d really like to, Peg, but I need to be up early in the morning. You have some… schnapps on your balcony if ya feel like havin’ some.”

A subtle hint that she may have seen Peggy and Sousa downstairs, but Peggy’s face was unintelligible so Angie gave a small smile. “Good night, English.”

Half of her hoped that Peggy would step closer, try to persuade her to come down with her, and there still might be hope for the two of them to have a nice, perhaps even sleepless night before her departure. When she turned on her heel, she prayed to God to hear her name uttered in that wonderful accent, calling as desperately as Angie felt when her fingers reached her door handle. And yet…

“Good night, Angie.” 

The tone was hard to decipher, and even if it was not, Angie had already been suffocating by the time she slipped into her room, back leaning on the door and a dry sob leaving her chest, feeling like her insides would explode. 

It has been nothing but her imagination that spurred her on for months, each sound of the heels that walked down the hallway, away from her room, assuring her that it had all been in her head.

Knowing that headache would ensue in the morning, suddenly feeling too tired for self-pity or crying, her room still spinning a little, Angie’s lips pursed as she reached the bed, not even bothering to take the flowery dress off, numb feeling taking her over entirely. Somewhere in the back of her mind there was a little voice:

_“I thought you might like the dress with violets, seeing how much you love them. I’d wager it will use you well on a special night.”_

It was just another dream that pulled her under as soon as her eyes closed.


End file.
